


Don't Ask. Tell.

by greyscalemuse



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: And James likes it, Blow Jobs, M/M, Military Kink, Sherlock is bossy, Sherlock likes a soldier, Sholtolock, is sexy fluff a thing?, tiny bit of dirty talk tossed in for good measure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-23
Updated: 2017-07-23
Packaged: 2018-12-05 18:48:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11583999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greyscalemuse/pseuds/greyscalemuse
Summary: James finds part of Sherlock's magazine collection and confirms what he kind of already knew, but is no less inspired by the revelation.





	Don't Ask. Tell.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Irrevocably_Sherlocked](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Irrevocably_Sherlocked/gifts).



> A request from Itsallgood! She pretty much gave me free reign on this, so I decided to have a little bit of fun.
> 
> Beta'd by the fabulous Irrevocably_Sherlocked - I hope you liked reading your own birthday gift. ;)  
> (in other words - happy belated birthday!)

It really was an accident on James’ part, and honestly, Sherlock had forgotten he’d even hid the thing to begin with. James was just trying to be a courteous boyfriend. Despite that, Sherlock still turned bright red, slumped low in his armchair, and tried his best to hide his face behind his laptop when James wandered out of the bedroom with the magazine in hand, leafing through it.

“You know, it’s been… ages… since I’ve seen one of these.”

“Seen wha– oh.” Sherlock looked up and shrank downwards as he realized James had stumbled across the military themed magazine – one of many, really – and was currently thumbing through it with great interest, pausing at certain parts before he finally stood in front of Sherlock with this look he got whenever he figured out something new about the detective. “Where could you have possibly picked that up?” Sherlock tried his best to feign ignorance, and judging from the quick eye roll he got in return, he was doing a very poor job.

“I found it underneath the mattress when I was trying to make the bed.”

“It’s simply astounding how far you’ve come with your physical therapy…”

“And you’re changing the subject,” James reached down and snapped Sherlock’s laptop closed, gently removing it from his lap. “Why are you embarrassed?”

Sherlock cleared his throat and reached out to grab the magazine that James had tossed gently beside him, looking down at it, “I… um… would you believe I only had it for research…?”

“That you tracked down a twenty year old magazine just to read the articles? I’m inclined to say ‘no.’.”

“Worth a shot…” Sherlock stretched out his legs and sighed heavily before rolling his eyes upwards and staying quiet. James balanced himself with his good arm on the back of Sherlock’s chair, his weaker hand lifting up to slowly to gently tap him on the chin. Sherlock hummed briefly when he felt James’ lips against his forehead.

“You know it’s not uncommon, right?” He purred into Sherlock’s ear, making the younger man shiver noticeably. “I got plenty of attention when I was in my uniform.”

“Did you?” Sherlock tilted his head to the side and sighed in contentment as James pulled his lips down the line of his neck, sucking on his bottom lip when James’ path ended with a nip to Sherlock’s collarbone. “Exactly how much attention is ‘plenty’?”

“Oh. I don’t want to brag,” James purred before he got to his knees in front of Sherlock, who had slid back up to a more normal posture, knees bent and parted as intent eyes watched every move James made, no doubt analysing every possibility James’ current position presented.

“I believe that statement itself constitutes as indirectly bragging…” The hiss cut him off, his legs falling further apart as James pressed his mouth to the growing bulge between his legs. “Oh god,” he whimpered, head falling back as the blood in his veins rushing downwards to fill his cock – so fast his mind spun. He looked down quickly enough to catch the smug smirk on James’ face before the other man licked a warm stripe along his tented pyjama bottoms. Dizzy with lust, he reached his hands down to caress the back of James’ head only to whimper as he was chastised in a very authoritative manner.  
“Hands on the armrests and keep them there until I say otherwise.”

Sherlock pressed his fingers into the leather, biting at his lip as he looked down between his legs and watched James push up his ratty tee shirt. His abdomen clenched at the first gentle brush of lips against his skin before he relaxed and just allowed James to tease him.

He jerked a bit as James pulled back to sit on his heels, working Sherlock’s pyjama bottoms and pants down to his upper thighs, kissing the warm skin as it was bared to him. “So is it any man in a uniform? Or soldiers specifically?”

“Sol… soldiers specifically… ahn! James!”

The first teasing lap of James’ tongue to the tip of Sherlock’s cock made his breath catch and his head fall back. He dug the tips of his nails deep into the leather with an audible scratching sound as James concentrated his efforts on completely undoing him – slowly.

The lazy drag of James’ thumb and forefinger as they circled his length made Sherlock squirm, yet it did nothing to distract him from the achingly slow pace James had adopted – with feather light kisses and painfully slow drags of his tongue. Sherlock twisted and begged with a sob.

“God, James. Please…”

It was enough to make James withdraw completely and Sherlock whimpered, slumping further into the chair before he opened his eyes to look up at James hovering over him.

“So bossy,” James purred in Sherlock’s ear, making the other man groan. “When you think about those men in the magazines, are you taking orders or giving them?” James smirked a bit before pecking both of Sherlock’s cheeks. “Actually, don’t answer that. I think I can guess…” He reached down and tapped the underside of Sherlock’s chin, making him look up at him. “Tell me what you want.”

“J.. James… please… I…”

“No. No please. No asking. Just tell.”

Sherlock’s spine became rigid as he squared his shoulders and cleared his throat, steeling his voice as he tried to regain his composure. “Major Sholto. I want you on your knees and sucking my cock until I come down your throat.”

James’ obedient ‘yes sir’ nearly sent Sherlock over the edge on its own. His left knee hooked over James’ shoulder while his right splayed off the side of the chair. Free from James’ previous order, his hands dug into the other man’s hair as his straining cock was enveloped by that warm and inviting mouth.

A whispered ‘fuck’ slipped through clenched teeth with a moan on its heels. James’ tongue did a sinful twist across the slit before he flattened it and ran it along the underside of Sherlock’s cock as he drew it further into his mouth. James’ name rumbled from deep within Sherlock’s chest as he lost his grip on everything else around him as James drew back only to plunge further down, dragging Sherlock down into the depths of every carnal desire he’d ever had.

He didn’t even hear himself make the request out loud, only James’ rather breathy ‘please’ hitting heated skin. He ran his hand through the soft hair at the back of James’ head, staring upwards at the ceiling as the wet heat engulfed him again. With a reassuring squeeze to his arse, Sherlock’s hips jerked forward once, then twice, before he felt James’ throat relax fully and he was thrusting, fucking James’ mouth until his vision blurred, his mind halted, and he felt himself coming.

He was just starting to regain coherence when James’ lips were on his in a searing kiss that tasted of bitter salt and made his toes curl. He broke away breathless and incapable of keeping the utterly besotted grin from his face before he pecked another kiss to James’ nose. “Your tongue is an absolute gift, Major.”

“High praise,” James chuckled – which turned into a grunt as Sherlock’s hands began to wander below his waistline. “Now what are you after?”

“You’re still hard. I find that utterly distressing.”

“Well, we can’t have that. What do you suggest?”

Sherlock tilted his head back in thought before he grinned a bit. “I feel like I should… reward you… for such a fantastic blow job so… how about working you open with my tongue until your knees give out and you’re positively begging?”

“Hm,” James smirked before he turned on his heel and headed towards the bedroom, “Your dirty talk has improved a lot since we started going out.”

“I’m a fast learner.”

The remark earned him an eye roll – which only made his grin widen. “Yes, okay genius. Let’s see what else that tongue has learned.”

 

* * *

 

Sherlock was sipping at his tea when the photo skidded across the table surface and stopped right within his sight line. He blinked a few times and set his mug aside before picking up the wrinkled square – aged and slightly faded – before flipping it over to see what was captured on the other side.

He promptly choked on his own spit.

“Dear fucking…” the swear fell fast while the rest of his sentence got lost in his throat and sunk straight down to the base of his cock, which he quickly had to squeeze in a vain attempt to keep from getting hard. His eyes darted up to see James standing on the other side of the table, waiting patiently, stoic if it weren’t for his eyes sparking with mischief.

“Thought you might appreciate an addition to your collection.”

Sherlock nodded before he quickly wiped the hint of drool collecting at the corner of his mouth. He cleared his throat, though his eyes had a difficult time tearing away from a young Major Sholto – his James – wearing desert fatigues, stripped of his jacket, leaving nothing but a vest and trousers and the faint glint of dogtags around his neck.

It took him a moment to actually speak, and when he finally did, it came out dry like the gravel and sand that served as James’ backdrop.

“You’re… giving this to me?”

“You’re welcome to keep it, if you want. Sorry about the quality. It’s the only one I could find right off hand.”

“You… you have more?”

“I might. I have to look.”

Sherlock shifted in his seat, clutching at the photo tightly, “Do… do you still… do you still have this uniform?”

James finally cracked a smile at that and shook his head with a laugh, “I do, but I doubt they fit me the same way.”

“I don’t mind,” Sherlock answered in an automatic rush of words before he sought out his cup of tea and took a long swig in a desperate attempt to steady his voice. “I mean… if you were… you know, to wear them. At some point… I… wouldn’t be opposed to it.”

James just chuckled before he closed the distance between them, running a hand through his lover’s hair. “I will definitely keep that in mind.”


End file.
